"The Benevolent Doctor"
17. Patient Zero
Sometime in New New York
The Doctor had not left Alfred's bedside for hours now, and Martha knew the boy's family was sitting downstairs, feeling every minute weigh down on them, every last one just a little heavier to bear. She knew he wouldn't give up, no matter how long it took. The only times he moved away from Alfred were to run back into the TARDIS to find something, and then he would quickly go back to the boy to carry on his examination.
Martha had been meant to help him, and she had been there, right until Alice had come dashing up the stairs to tell them Santana had snuck out – again. She wanted to get her friend back, and they understood that, but they also knew the risks, and letting a fourteen-year-old girl rush headlong through the doctor's gates was not going to happen. Not wanting to put anything more on the Brannigans' plates, Martha had taken on keeping an eye on Santana while the Doctor worked over Alfred. At this point, he might work better if there was no one distracting him.
On Santana's third attempt, Martha had pulled the girl into the Brannigans' kitchen, made her sit, and started to pull whatever food she recognized, dropping it on the table. "Go on then," Martha nodded to Santana and the table.
"What?" the girl frowned, crossing her arms before herself.
"There are people in that other room, worried sick, as much as you are, and they've been sitting there for hours, and none of us has had a thing to eat. So you and I are going to put something together, and maybe you'll stay here and I won't have to chase you… again."
"He's got her!" Santana blurted out, louder than she meant to, and Martha thought she heard the six Brannigans in the next room turn at once. She came up to the table, sitting with the girl, who looked like she was trying not to cry, and taking her hands.
"It's alright," she promised. "We'll get her back." Somewhere in her head, she was hearing her mother telling her that she shouldn't make promises she didn't know she could keep.
"You saw what he did to Alfred!" Santana was still agitated, and her voice had at least lowered some of the way. "What if he did that to her, too, and to Agnes?"
"The Doctor will…"
"You know you're so sure that he can do everything, but we're sitting here while Brittany could be in pain, and I can't just…"
"I know it's hard, but I do believe the Doctor has it right about this," Martha nodded. Santana sniffled, in a way that told the other girl she wasn't the sniffling type, especially in public. Martha pretended like she couldn't see, though she did slip her a tissue. "You two are obviously very close, and that's good," she smiled encouragingly. "If you were the one in trouble, she would fight to get you out, same as you're doing for her, wouldn't she?"
"In a second," Santana confirmed.
"Then wherever she is, whatever's happening to her," Martha went on, and Santana flinched at the thought. "She'll know you're coming for her, right?"
"Right," Santana bowed her head, dabbing at her eyes.
"There's a lot of power in that, so don't write her off as helpless." This seemed to do the trick, reassuring Santana, and after a moment, she sat up, starting on to the task she'd been assigned, putting together a late breakfast for herself, Martha, and the Brannigans.
"So if he's an alien, does he eat like us? The Doctor?" she asked, willing for conversation to exist, the better to stop silence from taking over again.
"Oh, he does… Not always the most… conventional flavors," she frowned, reminiscing, then laughed, which made Santana smile. She was still worried, clearly, but finally, just barely, she had hope.
x
When the Doctor's steps had been heard on the stairs from above, Brannigan, Valerie, and the four children sitting with them, all stood in wait, imagining that he was coming with news.
"May I speak with you?" he looked to the parents. "In private." The children began to speak all at once, afraid that they were about to get bad news about their brother. "No, no, it's alright," the Doctor waved his hands, realizing this. "I mean, there's no change, but that's as bad as it's good, I… Never mind," he shook his head, motioning for the pair to follow him aside. Once they were alone, he made his request. "I need to see more of them."
"More of…" Valerie started to ask, and the Doctor explained.
"More patients, more 'volunteers,'" he emphasized the words to remind them how much he didn't agree with how willing they'd all been to submit to Benedict's experiments.
"What for?" Valerie asked.
"I need more information, it may be vital…"
"What about our daughter? And that girl? They're still out there, with Dr. Benedict…"
"I am well aware of this," he assured her. "But I saw that place, and so did you," he nodded to Brannigan. "I don't think it'd be wise to push in without a plan, do you?" Brannigan hesitated, looking to his wife and the Doctor. He had absolute faith in the Time Lord, but then he shared his wife's concerns. "If I can see some of them, speak to them, examine them, I'll have a better idea of what's happening. It may be our best chance of restoring Alfred, and the girls, too, assuming he's done anything like this to them as well."
"Can you, Doctor? Can you make him as he was?" Brannigan asked. The Doctor stared at him, the words he'd been about to say being swallowed back into his mouth. He sighed.
"I will do everything in my power, and if there is any way of undoing what's been done to him, believe you me, I will find it, even if it takes me centuries," he vowed.
The way Valerie was looking at him now, it was as though she'd finally remembered what he'd done for them, all those years ago on the motorway.
"Alright," she bowed her head. "We'll bring them to you."
TO BE CONTINUED (TUESDAY)